


Sammy's Secret

by sammyinlacypanties



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, F/M, Het, Light Bondage, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2378564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyinlacypanties/pseuds/sammyinlacypanties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's got a kink that no one knows about...until you walk in on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> As you may have guessed from my username, this is like my biggest kink in the world, so I thought it fitting that this be the first story I post on here. Enjoy.

   You'd been hunting with the boys for awhile now, and you were comfortable. There was a routine to it - find a job, take a road trip, flash some fake badges and get some info, and gank the monster. Every kill you helped Sam and Dean make made you feel better inside. Maybe it was unhealthy, but they understood. Your normal life had been disrupted when you almost lost your best friend to a demon - and you certainly would have lost her if it weren't for the Winchesters. After that, you couldn't justify sitting on your ass while helpless people were becoming cold police cases every day.

   Dean was reluctant at first, but after taking a look at your skill set (research projects, martial arts training, stuff you never thought you'd need), Sam managed to convince his older brother to bring you along. And it had been like that for the better part of a year - Dean second-guessing you and Sam sticking his neck out, and you never disappointed. Maybe Dean was just trying to protect you. Maybe Sam knew what it felt like to be doubted. In any case, it was easier for you to connect with Sam. He listened. He _felt_ and wasn't ashamed of it. And it sure wasn't Dean you were having those dreams about at night, the ones you woke up from sweating with the sheets tangled up and thrown off the bed.

   The three of you had just gotten back to Bobby's after an uneventful wendigo hunt (if you can call shooting a cannibalistic monster in the heart with a flare gun uneventful). Bobby had left a note - he was out picking up groceries. You were standing closest to the wendigo when it was shot, so you called dibs on the upstairs shower. The boys usually ate right after a hunt anyway. You went up to your room, gathered up some clean clothes and made your way down the hall the the bathroom. Without thinking, you pushed open the door and came face to face with Sam.

   Who was standing in front of the mirror wearing nothing but a pair of Victoria's Secret panties.

   After a moment of mortified silence you whirled around and closed the door, making your way down the hall to the stairs as quickly as you could without running. You passed Dean in the dining room, who made some cheesy joke about you looking like you'd "seen a ghost, hehe" before locking yourself into the first floor bathroom.

   You took a few deep breaths, trying to stop the obnoxious fluttering in your stomach. Was your face going to boil off your skull? Were you going to lose your lunch? Were you having a heart attack? _God, get it together, _____. And you got it together for a minute, until you thought about how you were ever going to look him in the face from now on and suddenly you were a mess again. _Just, take your shower - a_ cold _one - and act like it never happened. You can do this._

   Fifteen minutes later your body was clean, but your mind sure wasn't. You couldn't stop thinking about that vulnerable, innocent look on his face...and the bulge in those silky red panties. You eased your way into the dining room, which you found empty. You realized you hadn't eaten since this morning, but doubted you could keep anything down right now. You had a plan. Or, well, sort of a plan. You walked softly up the stairs, past the upstairs bathroom where the water was running and Dean was loudly singing some Skynyrd song, down to the end of the hall where Sam's room was. You listened, and heard nothing. You knocked.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in?" you asked softly.

"Um...yeah, sure." You heard it in his voice - he hadn't stopped thinking about it once in the past fifteen minutes either. You eased the door open. _He's dressed, thank God._ Sam was sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands folded in his lap, that damned vulnerable look on his face again. Like you could break him with a word.

"I...I'm sorry I walked in on you. I should have knocked." You could feel your face getting hot again, and a blush was creeping into Sam's cheeks as well.

"No, it's all right, I uh, I should have locked the door." He looked down at his hands, like it hurt him to meet your eyes for too long.

"You know your secret's safe with me, right? I mean, you do you." _Oh God ____ don't say it don't say it_ "Actually...I think it's kinda hot."

Sam's head shot up and he looked right at you. "You...wait, really? You better not be screwing with me."

"Well, to be honest, you could do just about anything and it would be hot, Sam Winchester."

He looked down and smirked. "Dean owes me 10 bucks," he mused.

"Wait...you boys took bets about who I was into??"

Sam laughed. "Well, yeah. Dean was totally sure you had the hots for him. I just wanted to see him lose that bet for once. Bobby told us, and I quote, 'what makes you idjits think she's interested in either of y'all?'" You sat down next to Sam on the bed, your heart suddenly pounding.

"Well, looks like you won that bet, Sam." You looked into his eyes and he bit his lip. And then your mouth was moving without your permission again.

"So I have to ask...are you still wearing them?"

Sam chuckled awkwardly. "Well...yeah, I mean, sometimes I just...wear them...like under my, uh, my clothes..."

You leaned closer to him. "You don't have to hide them with me." And suddenly your lips met, and your mind cleared, and all those crazy dreams that assaulted your waking consciousness stopped screaming behind your eyes for a moment, because here you were, kissing Sam. As he kissed you gently, urgently, your hands moved down to the front of his pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them down until the red satin lined with black lace peeked out. He started to pull those down too, but you stopped him.

"No, I want you to leave these on for me."

Now you were on his lap, and he was nibbling at your neck as you ground your hips into the growing bulge between his legs. You kissed your way down his chest, down his hard stomach as you unbuttoned his shirt, and then you were kneeling between his knees, eye-level with his crotch. Gently, you kissed him through the silken fabric of those panties, and then you pulled them down just enough to free his member. He was hard, and getting harder, and the look on his face told you that you wouldn't have to do much to finish him. You slid your hands up his thighs and kissed the underside of his cock, slowly, working toward the tip, his fingers twining in your hair as you barely took the tip of him into your mouth. "Oh, ____" he moaned, grasping your hair tightly now and rocking into you as you stroked him with your mouth, deeper and deeper. He held it together until you started rubbing your hands over the parts of him still covered by his panties, and then he gasped and you tasted his release in your mouth, felt him shudder as he tried not to thrust too hard into your mouth, always gentle even in the throes of pleasure and oh how you loved that about Sam. With him still trying to catch his breath you cleaned him up with your tongue, his wide eyes watching you as you gently lifted his underwear and pants back into place.

He was fumbling with the buttons on his shirt when you heard the front door slam, smelled the aroma of the local supermarket's rotisserie chicken, heard Bobby shout "dinner's here, ya knuckleheads!" and Dean exclaim "hell yeah!" You and Sam looked at each other, exchanged a tentative smile - God, there was so much in that smile, so much that was and could be - and then you both realized how hungry you were.


	2. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's driving himself insane thinking about you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very good friend told me it could be longer so I decided I could easily add more chapters. This one is kind of short also but I feel like it gets the job done ;)

*Sam's POV*

It had been three days since that day that changed everything, and Sam hadn't managed to find any time alone with ____. They had been working a shifter job in the next state over; it was a particularly evasive shifter, and they'd barely had time to eat and sleep. Not to mention that a shared hotel room between the three of them wasn't exactly the perfect setting for romantic one-on-one time. Sam had collected his 10 dollars from Dean, without offering too many details. Dean and Bobby had been giving the two of them sideways looks, but no one said anything. Whenever she had a chance, ____ would smile sweetly right at Sam or touch his arm and his heart would flutter in his chest like it was high school all over again. No one since....since Jess had made him feel that way. And it was driving him crazy. He could barely focus, and something had to give.

It was night; they had closed up the case and made the several-hour long drive back to Bobby's, where they had all immediately retired to bed, exhausted. Sam was in his room alone, thinking about her. He wasn't brave enough to walk down the hall and knock on her door. He had his explanations for that - she was tired, and so he didn't want to bother her, asking her for more would be presumptuous anyway, blah, blah. Really, he was scared. He always did this to himself - turning it over in his mind until he was convinced that he was delusional, that there was nothing there, that there could never be.

 _I'm not clean_.

There was that thought again, unbidden, cryptic, the feeling that had haunted him as long as he could remember. He pushed it away as he always did and thought of her face, the feel of her hair in his hands, her mouth on him...

_"No, I want you to leave these on for me."_

Hell, if he was unclean he might as well embrace it.

Sam got up from the bed and crossed to his dresser. In the top drawer, under layers of carefully folded jeans and flannel shirts, he found his favorite pair. Light blue satin, and damn they felt good as he slid them on, they always did. He laid back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment before he slid a hand down his chest, down his stomach, grazing his calloused hand over the silky fabric covering the bulge that wasn't quite hard yet but was about to be. He thought of ____'s hands. His hips gently rocked into his palm, that warm handful of himself growing firmer. He grazed the fingers of his other hand over his hipbones, then dipped his fingers under the waistband, finally making skin contact with himself.

_"Want you to leave these on for me."_

Just like she had done, though not as gently, he tugged down the waistband of the panties enough to expose his erection, throbbing and leaking now, his own body begging him for release. He grasped his member in his strong right hand, stroking up and down gently at first, then giving in and pumping faster, almost frantically, trying desperately to keep the whimpers and moans from escaping his lips and betraying him, waking someone and ruining everything. Her eyes, her face, her hands, her mouth, her moans against his length - all of her was in the forefront of his mind, and as he reached his release he almost did feel clean, purified, consumed by nothing but white-hot pleasure and thoughts of her.

She made him feel _clean._

He tossed the definitely not clean panties onto the floor and rolled over onto his side, staring at the wall in the dark, relieved and relaxed and slightly ashamed as always - and thought of ____ until he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	3. Longing, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is taking his sweet time, and you've got to get some relief.

*Your POV*

You were tired, but you couldn't sleep. All you could think about was Sam. He wanted you, you could tell - it was there in his eyes when they met yours, in his posture when you got close to him, in the way he put himself between that shifter and you, almost unthinkingly, like an instinct. You'd given him a taste, and he was desperate for more, like a man starved for oxygen or dying of thirst in a desert. No one had ever looked at you like he did. But there was something else. He was hesitating. Something was holding Sam back, some part of him that was afraid - of being rejected, of being vulnerable, of losing you...you weren't quite sure. Part of you was desperate; you were hunters, and every day could be your last, and didn't he realize how much you needed him? But the more logical part whispered, _wait_. You didn't want to force Sam into something he wasn't ready for. You needed him to be as sure of his feelings as you were of yours. You needed him to meet you on equal ground. But oh, how you needed him...

You thought of those soft red panties, hugging his ass, hugging _other_ things, black lace circling his narrow waist and strong legs, his cheeks flushing as you saw him standing there, that terrified look on his face that woke something fierce and hungry in you, all the long lines and hard planes of his body on display just for you. You thought of the feel of him under your hands, the taste of him in your mouth...

_Oh, fuck it._

You slid your hands under the blankets. You thought of his hands, how much you wanted them there right now, tracing every inch of you, pulling up your nightgown and exploring your body.

You thought of your new favorite obsession - Sam walking around in jeans and boots and flannel and a hunting jacket, a gun tucked in the back of his waistband and a knife in his sock, everything as it should be - except with a pair of daring lingerie underneath, rubbing him in all the right places, making him feel pretty inside, no one knowing about his naughty little secret but him and you.

You circled your fingers around your sensitive nipples, squeezing your soft breasts, moving your hands down to trail over your hips, under your ass, grasping, pinching, thinking of Sam's hands the whole time, big and strong and calloused, but always gentle, always respectful, almost asking permission to tug at your hair even as you were on your knees sucking his cock. He could dig up a grave with those hands, or bind up a wound or field strip a weapon or circle your whole waist or maybe even -

You gasped softly as you slipped a finger inside of yourself, not the finger you wanted in you at the moment but it would have to do. Two fingers now, damn you were desperate - had you ever been this sensitive in your life? - pumping in and out faster now as you circled the fingers of your other hand around that little bundle of nerves, and pressed. " _Oh, Sam_ ", you whispered softly into the night, as you came closer to the edge, and you knew you had never been this crazy about anyone before...

And then relief came, and you seized up for a moment, your mind empty of nothing but overwhelming sensation and a familiar face, your body no longer in your control - and then it passed, and you could relax, and you could sleep, snug in your bed and spent and satisfied...at least for tonight.


	4. Fulfillment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's waited long enough - now he's got plans for the two of you tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to finish, but here's the last chapter. Enjoy.

It had been your favorite kind of day - no case, just you and the boys helping Bobby around the house. Dean had given his Baby and Bobby's old Camaro a much-needed oil change, Sam had taken on the daunting task of organizing some of Bobby's lore books, and you had hopped on the tractor and mowed all around the property in the golden late summer haze. The day had been slow and easy - but not uneventful. Around noon, when you had paused to come inside for a cold drink, Sam had pressed a note into your hand as you walked by him, saying nothing. You followed suit and slipped the note into your pocket, not daring to look at it until after you were back outside and out of sight of Dean or Bobby. Leaning against the wheel of the tractor, your heart fluttered as you pulled out the wrinkled note and opened it, like you were a shy middle schooler all over again.

_Meet me in the panic room at sundown._

You were bewildered for a moment, wondering why in the world he would want to meet you down there of all places -

And then you remembered that the panic room was soundproof, and you smiled wickedly to yourself, and it was all you could do not to run over a fence or into a tree with the tractor for the rest of the day, preoccupied as you were with imagining what kinds of things Sam had planned for the two of you tonight.

As the sun sank below the horizon, the house was quiet - Dean was immersed in a soap opera on the TV and Bobby was in the reading room with his nose in a book, and the moment couldn't be better. You spent a minute in your room trying to decide what to wear under your clothes - something sexy or sweet? Or nothing at all? Eventually you settled on your favorite bra - unlined midnight blue lace, through which you could feel even the slightest touch, and simple matching panties. You put a tshirt and jeans on over it and slipped through the house, into the basement and down the hall to the iron-lined monster-proof panic room.

The heavy door was cracked open, and soft, flickering light spilled through into the hall. You slowly entered the room, and saw Sam sitting on the bed, which he had made up with clean sheets. There were candles all around the edge of the room and a backpack at Sam's feet, and he smiled deviously at you as you stood in the doorway. You stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind you.

Sam stood up and crossed the room to you, towering over you and looking intently into your eyes. "I'm sorry I waited so long. I need you to know how I feel," he said.

"You say you're sorry, but I have a feeling you're about to make up for it," you said with a smile as you gazed around the room.

And then he took your face in his huge hands and kissed you, gently and slowly, nibbling on your lips and then exploring your mouth with his tongue, and you melted and suddenly the only thing keeping you on your feet was you leaning against his body. Then he broke the kiss, and it was all you could do to catch your breath as he took your hand and led you toward the bed. Desperate for more contact, you pulled your shirt over your head and started to take off your jeans when Sam said, "wait." You froze, and and he leaned down and picked up the backpack at his feet, setting it down on the bed and unzipping it. "I couldn't decide, so I'm gonna let you pick."

Shirtless, with your nipples stiffening through your thin bra in the cool air, you walked to the bed and looked into the backpack. Inside were many different pairs of lingerie - satin, silk, lace, some thongs, a few crotchless. You realized that he was letting you decide what he would wear tonight.

And you had a wonderful idea.

You turned to face him, and then slowly unbuttoned and pulled down your jeans. Sam watched, bewildered but transfixed. You looked straight into his eyes as you pulled off your panties - midnight blue with lace accents - and held them up in front of him. "I want you to wear these."

Sam's eyes glimmered with anticipation, and he said softly, "Lie down on the bed." You obeyed, setting the backpack back on the floor and stretching yourself out on the small bed, practically shivering with excitement. "I think you like things a little...weird, so I've got big plans for you tonight," Sam told you as he dug in the bottom of the backpack and brought out a length of rope. He leaned over you and brought your arms up over your head, tying your wrists gently but securely to the bed frame. He leaned down and kissed you on the mouth and whispered in your ear, "You're okay with this, right?"

"I am _very_ okay with this," you whispered back through a smile, kissing his cheek before he stood back up.

With you tied to the bed in nothing but your lace bra and your eyes fixed on him, Sam started to undress. He took an agonizingly long time, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his hard torso, tossing it aside and pulling down his jeans, under which he had plain boxers, and then, as if he knew exactly what would drive you crazy, he turned around, giving you a view of nothing but his strong back and firm ass as he changed from his boxers into your panties. He turned back around and walked over to you, and you were practically squirming, wanting to touch him, to run your hands down his front and squeeze his silk-covered package, but unable to.

He straddled the bed with his long legs and lowered his hips down onto yours, soft fabric brushing your bare skin. Then he started to grind on you, looking into your eyes the whole time as he swirled his hips against yours. Never stopping his mesmerizing movement, he slid his hands up your belly to your chest, brushing lightly over your barely-covered breasts, his callouses pricking the soft lace, his eyes drinking in the sight of you stiffening under the thin see-through fabric. Still rubbing his body against yours - you could feel him growing harder by the second and you knew those panties wouldn't contain him much longer - he leaned down and began to kiss and lick and nibble your nipples through the bra, and without thinking you thrust your hips up into his and he chuckled - "Impatient, aren't you?" But he slid his hands under your ass and pulled you tighter to him, and the friction was too much and you begged him - "Please, Sam, oh please."

"Well, since you asked nicely..." And he stepped to the side long enough to strip off the panties and free his manhood, long and thick and hard and oh how you wanted it, and he spread your trembling legs with his strong hands and settled down onto you again, stretching out on the bed that was much shorter than he was, bracing his hands on either side of your bound arms and gazing into your eyes as he slid into you. He made love to you, slowly and deliberately, the heat and pleasure between your legs building slowly but surely until you couldn't take it anymore, and your back arched and you strained against your bonds and you cried out - thank god this room was soundproof - and distantly you heard him grunting and gasping and felt him come, his strong muscles contracting and a hot wetness inside you.

Then, as your vision was still hazy and your pulse pounded in your ears, Sam kissed your face and your neck gently as he reached up and untied your wrists, massaging your skin where you had rubbed against the rope, and he pulled the blankets over you and wrapped his arms around you and you fell asleep surrounded by his warmth, as he whispered in your ear that he loved you.


End file.
